Marvel: Death Dealer Chapter 88: Gwen’s fury

Dante shook his head, still processing the absurdity of it all. He had only hid his identity to save Felicia. That small, selfish choice had snowballed into this.

When he appeared, their fear folded into relief. Hope latched onto him like a parasite. They saw a savior, a walking answer to problems their world wasn’t built to handle.

“We’re going.” Natasha’s loud voice cut through the murmur of the crowd. She slamd her chain on the street, trying to intimidate people into backing off. They didn’t. A few flinched, sure, but most stayed right where they were

She took a deep breath and pointed a finger at Dante’s face. “And for the record—NO relationship!”

A chorus of disappointed “aww”s ca from the crowd, mostly from younger won.

A young man shouted from the back, “They always say that at first!”

Ripples of laughter passed through the crowd. Mixed in with it, though, were heavier voices. Soone sobbed to save his aunt, soone wanted his parents saved, soone wished for him to rescue the poor souls.

Natasha made a groan of pure frustration and turned away. The more she argued, the worse it would look. Denials were just fuel for the rumor mill. So, she cut her losses here and walked to a motorcycle parked at the curb—a sleek Kawasaki superbike. A super-expensive model.

As she swung a leg over the seat, sothing jingled through the air. Keys to the bike. She snatched them one-handed without even looking.

The owner, a man in his thirties wearing a leather jacket, grinned. “Get those fuckers.”

Dante studied him for a second. Either a biker from a rival gang with a grudge, or soone with family trapped on that island. Otherwise, he wouldn’t happily lend his bike.

Natasha’s flaming eyesockets locked onto the man. “Consider them finished.”

She jamd the key into the ignition and wrapped both bony hands around the handlebars. Hellfire poured out from her palms and cascaded down the fra. The chro turned black as the tires ignited, then reford as wheels of fire. The engine roared to life on its own.

In seconds, she had transford a normal bike into a Ghost Rider’s mount—an infernal machine that only a demon might use.

Phones lifted higher to capture this. So people stumbled backward because of pressure by others, and others stepped closer, drawn like moths.

Natasha let the chain wrap around her waist like a snake and looked back over her shoulder. “Try to keep up.”

The bike roared down the street, the burning wheels leaving a blazing trail.

Dante watched her weave between the cars. “Show-off.”

Laura nodded in agreent. “Are we letting her win?”

“Well, she’s got a bike.”

Sure, he could fuel his speed with solar radiation again and outdo Natasha. But then Laura would have to suffer the wrath of winter, which couldn’t be completely nullified with forcefields. The trade-off wasn’t worth it for two minutes.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, feeling her shift her weight instinctively to make herself easier to carry. She didn’t complain or protest being carried like she had gotten used to this treatnt. She quietly hooked her arms around his neck for support.

He raised his clawed hand and fired a thick black tendril at the nearest building. It stuck with a wet thwap, and his body launched upward like a slingshot.

Below, the crowd erupted in cheers.

“Skullfire! SKULLFIRE!”

“Get them, man!”

“His BRIDE is so badass!”

The duo heard all of it.

“People are weird,” Laura whispered, still puzzled by this positive reception. “So weird.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “They really are.”

If this was her reaction to the positive crowd, he wondered how she would react to J. Jonah Jason’s inevitable rant about “Skullfire and his Bride” once this hit the news cycle. The man’s spit would fly. His mustache would quiver. But he would never stop being a nace to heroes.

Dante would kill to see Natasha’s live reaction. It would be so hilarious.

Traffic slowed Natasha down about a kiloter ahead. Dante caught up easily, swinging parallel to her as she wove through gaps barely wide enough for the bike. If this were any other Ghost Rider, they would have said “screw it” and driven straight up onto the sidewalk, pedestrians be damned.

Swinging parallel to her, Dante had a mont to register how surreal this felt. Ghost Rider to his right. Logan’s daughter clinging to him in his arms. Venom bonded to him. Silver Sable waited for him at ho. Felicia nearly beca his girlfriend. And the Skullfire chants echoed behind them.

This wasn’t how he had imagined his transmigration going. The plan had been simple: keep a low profile, avoid drawing attention until he was strong enough to handle anything.

Instead, here he was. A “superhero” before Tony Stark even built the Mark I in the caves.

“Who could’ve seen it coming?”

“Even I didn’t.” Death’s voice slipped into his mind, soft and bemused. “It’s better this way.”

“How so?”

“I don’t care if my companion becos good or evil.” She took a dramatic pause. “I’ll never be with soone who doesn’t understand the weight of life and death.”

This was also why she had made him tread a humble path from the beginning. Becoming a supervillain ant losing touch with the understanding he had of Death. Most supervillains were indifferent. Death didn’t want him to beco a completely different person from the man who had proposed to be her companion.

“I don’t know about life or death… I do know I cherish you.”

“I know, Companion.”

Laura nudged his ribs with an elbow. “Who’re you whispering to?”

“My girlfriend.”

“Delusional.”

“...”

***

Natasha rolled to a stop right at the bridge line. The NYPD barricade was still up. A dozen officers stood behind cover, service weapons drawn and aid directly at her.

“Hold your fire!” soone shouted.

“She’s on fire!”

One cop, younger than the rest, looked like he wanted to lower his gun but didn’t dare. “Ma’am, you need to—”

“Stand down,” an older officer barked. “Protocol says nobody passes this line.”

“Protocol?” Another cop chid in, gesturing wildly toward the island. “There are thousands of lives in danger on the other, and you’re worried about—”

“She looks like that other one!” soone else shouted, pointing at Natasha. “The Skullfire guy—are they related?”

Dante dropped from above, landing in a crouch beside Natasha. Laura hopped down lightly and took on an aggressive stance, her claws extended.

Several officers straightened, recognizing him at once.

One younger cop opened his mouth, clearly about to shout sothing encouraging. His female partner elbowed him hard in the ribs and hissed, “Shut it. Protocol.”

The officer bit his lip and stayed quiet, but his eyes stayed bright with hope.

Dante straightened to his full height and spoke in a voice that expected obedience, “Let us through.”

The captain—a stocky man with graying hair and signs of wrinkles on his face—flinched but held his ground. His hand stayed near his holster, though it didn’t move toward the gun. “Captain Stacy didn’t back down. I won’t let anyone disgrace the law.”

Dante tilted his head slightly, letting his eyes burn with even more intense flas. “She’s with . My bride.”

Half the officers blinked in confusion. A few exchanged glances.

One officer muttered, “Wait, what?”

Natasha’s gaze snapped toward him. She swung her hand and the flaming chain slamd down at him. He took a casual step to the right, feeling Hellfire burn the air above his head.

The chain exploded concrete and sent debris flying. A burning line ford on the asphalt.

“I don’t fear this,” Venom rumbled. “WE BURN WITH THE POWER OF SUN.”

Natasha stepped closer, her flas intensifying with her emotions. “Not another word about that.”

“Okay. Fine.”

She wouldn’t be so against this teasing in her normal form. The Ghost Rider form made her a tad more serious.

She held his gaze for a long few seconds, the chain still smoldering in her grip, before she turned sharply away with a huff of smoke. “Good that you understand.”

Dante shook his head and walked toward the captain, who had gone pale watching the exchange. He seed to be regretting having too much spine.

“You know we’re trying to help,” Dante said with the sa gravelly voice. “Your firearms can’t handle those monsters.”

The captain swallowed. His eyes flicked from Dante to Natasha—who was now pointedly ignoring him—then back. “We don’t have authorization.”

Natasha turned her skull toward the captain. “Didn’t you receive a call from the higher-ups?”

“No,” the captain said stiffly. “No word from them or SWAT teams.”

She pulled out a phone and swiped a few tis before pressing it against the side of her skull. “Cops are denying entry.”

Dante’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen. Emma Frost. Giving a nod to Laura, he stepped a few steps away and accepted the call.

“Dear, I look away for one hour, and suddenly you and your new bride are the hottest trend on the internet.” Emma was having fun. “Do you know the hashtag they’re using?”

“Let be ignorant for once.”

“You have too much experience to be flustered.”

He couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped. “Did you call just for this?”

“Partially.” Her playfulness dropped as she beca serious. “Do you need help?”

“Not really.”

Natasha alone could handle this symbiote-enhanced biker gang. Him and Laura were an overkill. Well, all of them would be able to contain the symbiotes easily if the bikers had any idea of escaping.

“Great. I couldn’t have made it in ti anyway.” He knew she was smirking on the other side. “My private jet’s undergoing maintenance.”

Of course she had a private jet. He wasn’t even surprised anymore. “Looking for a husband, by any chance? I can cook, clean, massage, and beat up bad guys. Also excellent in bed.”

Her laugh was soft and genuine this ti, not the polite one reserved for negotiations. “Not at the mont. But if I were, you’d rank at number two or three.”

“Ti doesn’t wait for anyone. You should consider it now.”

“I’ll age like fine wine,” she said smugly. “The thing is you’re already taken by a queen who isn’t Emma Frost.”

“I can handle two queens.” He shrugged. “Oh well. Tragic missed opportunity.”

“Real tragic. Because I don’t share my precious things with anyone.” Her voice had softened just slightly. “Hopefully I’ll see you after this is done.”

“About that—those two won? Why did they co looking for ?”

“To tell you sothing. I’ll explain when you return.”

“Okay, fine. I don’t want to know anyway.”

“Hey—”

He hung up with a smile. ssing with Emma never got old. He would continue edging her for this private conversation she had been wanting.

Regrouping with the duo of Natasha and Laura, he waited for SHIELD’s higher-ups to deal with the legal trouble. He only had to wait half a minute for the captain’s phone to ring.

Whatever he heard made his face go pale. “Yes, Captain Watanabe.”

Dante recognized the na imdiately. Yuri Watanabe. The lady officer who would beco Wraith.

“Understood.” The captain lowered the phone slowly, then looked at Dante and Natasha like he’d just swallowed sothing bitter. “You’re federal reinforcents. You’re cleared to enter.”

The barricades shifted aside at his commands. Officers stepped back to create a path.

Laura glared at him and moved to sit behind Natasha on the bike. The alternative was being carried, which she didn’t appreciate. Natasha didn’t say a word and revved the engine, flas roaring higher.

Dante fired a web-line and swung over the barricade. A few cops cheered from behind. The threat of super-monsters made them look past the illegal nature of vigilantism.

‘Desperate tis call for desperate asures.’

On the island side, he found Captain Yuri waiting for him with a whole squad. The mont she saw Dante, her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected the help from the higher-ups to include Skullfire and soone who looked like his female version.

“Skullfire,” she said, stepping forward. “You need to find Ghost Spider. She just left to confront the bikers—”

BOOM.

An explosion echoed from not too far away. Black smoke rose to give the location away.

The fight had already started.

Dante cocked his head toward the smoke. Natasha didn’t need any more instruction. Natasha’s bike scread towards the fight.

“Wait,” Yuri called out before he could leave. “Who are they?”

“Your backup. I just tagged along.” Dante turned his back on Yuri. “Give a radio.”

She hesitated for only a second, then yanked one off a nearby officer’s belt and tossed it to him. He caught it one-handed without looking back.

“Good call,” she said. “I’ll get in touch if sothing happens.”

***

He found Natasha not too far away. She quietly watched the conflict happening in an open parking lot. Nearly every car here was either overturned or wrecked. Few were burning.

At the center of it all was Ghost Spider.

She was surrounded by five symbiote-bonded bikers, yet nobody dared to approach her. The three bikers webbed to the ground would be their fate if they fought recklessly.

So she took the initiative and fired one web at a biker’s leg. His feet flew out from under him, arms flaying as he crashed onto his back. The other four broke formation instantly and rushed her from three sides.

She jumped and attached both webshooters to a biker’s chest, using it like a grappling line to pull herself toward him at a terrifying speed. She drove both feet into his face with a flying kick that cracked his helt.

He went flying through the chain-link fence.

She didn’t wait to see him land. The montum carried her forward. She twisted, planted a hand on the ground, and launched herself in the air into an uppercut that caught another biker square under the jaw. His head snapped back. Before gravity could reclaim him, she spun in the air and drove an axe-kick into his chest. He was slamd into the asphalt, cracking it under his back.

Gwen crossed her arms, fired webs from both shooters, and snagged the bikers she’d just dropped. With a sharp tug and a full-body twist, she hurled them directly onto the hoods of burning cars.

The symbiotes shrieked.

Black tendrils writhed and convulsed as the heat blistered through their mass.

Gwen didn’t let up. She fired again to web their legs to the car fras, pinning them in place. The symbiotes clawed at the webbing, ripping through strands, but Gwen had a seemingly endless supply. Every ti they tore one strand free, three more replaced it. She kept firing.

The two bikers were watching in horror as their comrades’ symbiotes burned. “Motherfucking hero she is.”

“She is just a psycho, man.”

“Fucking hell,” another whispered. “Take her seriously, or we’re screwed.”

Gwen said nothing. She just stood there, watching the flas torture symbiotes.

“She’s pissed,” he whispered.

And she had every right to be. Even if George Stacy survived, the man who had taught her right from wrong, that man was gone. He won’t ever be the sa with a broken spine.

This was her revenge.

The symbiotes couldn’t endure direct contact with fire. Their resistance was pathetic compared to a fully-evolved specin like Venom. These were fragnts—incomplete and rushed into hosts without proper bonding.

Venom only endured the solar radiation because of Dante’s coordination and Helio Reactor’s unique properties. Otherwise, Venom would have also lted on the spot. Their innate weakness couldn’t be overco easily.

One by one, the symbiotes peeled away from their hosts, slithering off the burning cars. They fled across the pavent, leaving unconscious n behind.

Dante dropped from the post and seized them, bringing them to his suit. A tentacle arm erupted from his skin and lded with the symbiotes.

“My fragnts. WE’RE STRONGER NOW.”

The three bikers still on their feet exchanged panicked glances. No words. Just the shared realization that they were fucked. After all, they were already having a harder ti with Gwen. The arrival of Skullfire ruined any chances they had.

They bolted in different directions, splitting up to increase their survival chances.

Vrooom. Natasha’s bike roared as she chased one biker. Laura leaped off with claws extended and pursued one of them.

Gwen grabbed a bike by the fra using her webs and swung it like a wrecking ball. The bike smashed into his back, and he went down face-first. Gwen caught up in a mont, grabbed his leg, and dragged him through the asphalt. He scread and clawed the ground, but she didn’t slow down.

She hurled him into the side of a burning sedan.

Flas roared, and the symbiote shrieked.

Natasha ramd her bike into her target and trapped him under the flaming wheel. The heat of Hellfire made the symbiote cry like it was living its worst nightmare. It imdiately abandoned its host and ran for its life.

Laura stabbed her target with both claws and brought the man to Natasha’s flaming wheel. It also folded in an instant, and the biker naturally died with those injuries.

She had no rcy for enemies.

Laura pulled off her claws and stepped aside, letting the man fall to her side.

Dante fired three tentacles one by one to absorb the symbiotes, then moved to the three unconscious bikers Gwen had webbed earlier. Their symbiotes had already retreated into dormancy, trying to hide. It didn’t matter. He ripped them free anyway.

“Strength is returning,” Venom said, satisfied. “Feel better…”

He ignored Venom’s comntary and approached Gwen. She stood motionless, staring at the flas still dancing across the car’s hood.

“Hey,” he whispered gently, the better to handle a person going through a tough ti. “You alright?”

She didn’t move her gaze “Why are you here?”

“Am I not allowed to help a friend in need?”

She turned slowly, mask lenses locking onto his flaming skull. “You’re Death. Can—”

Natasha drifted to a stop, tires screeching. “More are coming.”

Gwen’s gaze shifted to Natasha, then to Laura, who stood silently nearby, blood still dripping from her claws. She had been unconscious for most of last night’s chaos, but Silvija—or soone—must have clued her in. Now she was processing why Dante was working alongside the two people they had fought yesterday.

She quietly popped out the empty cartridges from her web shooters and replaced them with fresh ones. “Let’s talk after we drive them away.”

“What I was about to say.”

The bikers stopped about fifty ters away, forming a loose line, headlights cutting through the smoke. Twenty of them and more approaching from the back.

The one in the lead was the tallest and most bulkiest symbiote—the leader. It was still less intimidating than Dante due to the difference in their heights.

“You have so skills, I’ll admit,” the leader said as he dismounted and approached them. “I’m Michael and these are my angels—”

Gwen threw a double web at his mouth and launched herself like a slingshot, legs ready to knock him out. The biker effortlessly grabbed Gwen’s ankle without so much as a flinch. She slipped out of his control with an impressive twist.

“Why are you angry?” Michael asked in a calm voice. “We haven’t killed any innocent yet. The only casualty was George, who will live a life worse than death.”

“You scum…” Gwen growled in a low voice and threw a punch at Michael’s face. His head snapped to the right with a sickening crunch.

He turned back to Gwen and placed a hand over on his cheek, eyes full of surprise. “You’re strong, I’ll give you that. But I, I’m on another—”

A looming figure appeared behind him like a ghost, grabbed his head with one clawed hand, and slamd his face into the ground. The impact cratered the asphalt, and Michael’s body went limp.

Dante pinned Michael down with one knee and caught the symbiote out with his bare hands. The creature writhed and tried to sink deeper into its host.

He ripped it out.

The black slimy mass thrashed in his grip for a second before Venom reclaid it.

The strongest symbiote in this batch returned to its righteous place in Venom’s body.

This ti Dante felt a surge of strength. The effect was obvious.

“WE DEVOUR.”

Venom’s voice and Dante’s rged into one roar.

He charged into the flock of bikers. The first biker didn’t even have ti to raise his hands before Dante’s clawed fist connected with his chest and absorbed the symbiote.

The host collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Three bikers ca at him from the left. Their punches landed, but the impacts just stopped, absorbed by Venom. Dante didn’t even flinch.

He grabbed the closest one by the collar and headbutted him. The biker’s helt cracked down the middle. Dante covered the biker’s head with his large hand. And just like that, another symbiote fragnt was claid.

Two more rushed from behind. Claws swiped across Dante’s back as they tried to shred through his symbiote. Nothing. Not even a scratch.

The three won didn’t interfere in his battle.

Laura wanted to rush in, but Natasha held her back and gestured to Gwen.

Ghost Spider stood there with her fists clenched, watching Dante tear through them like they were nothing.

They were made as helpless as her father had been.

This was a show exclusively for the woman who held her father dear.

He fought like a demon. Grabbing one biker by the throat and absorbing the symbiote, and then moving to the next.

One by one, they fell under his claws.

“More,” Venom whispered, almost intoxicated. “Give us MORE.”

Despair set in fast. Within thirty seconds, half their biker crew was down. Within a minute, only a handful remained.

A biker stumbled backward, symbiote twitching erratically across his chest. “What the hell is this thing?!”

“It’s not fair!” another one shouted, voice cracking with panic. “He’s too strong!”

Dante stopped and looked at them. Then he laughed. “Fair? You fuckers want to talk about fair?”

He took a step forward. The bikers took two steps back.

“You had the power so you made the rules on this island.” He spread his arms, shot two writhing symbiote lines, and dragged two bikers to grip their throats. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Screw this!” one of them shouted in a voice so shrill it ca off as feminine. “I’m out!”

He turned and ran. The rest scattered like startled birds as well.

Dante was left speechless. Maybe he had put on a far too intimidating performance to satisfy Gwen’s thirst for vengeance.

“Venom, stop them! I can’t chase everyone.”

Venom took control and roared in its native language, challenging them to stay and fight. These symbiotes were artificially made and knew nothing of Klyntar, but the instincts had been engraved into their DNA. They understood the challenge. However, their survival instincts prevailed.

“Cowards,” Venom grumbled, annoyed. “They disgrace my na.”

“Don’t let them run!” Dante looked behind and yelled at the three won. “Hurry up!”

Natasha jumped on her bike, revved her engine, and shot forward. Laura took the stance of a sprinter and used an explosive dash to close the distance. Gwen fired a web to the fence to slingshot herself.

Thankfully, the bikers split in different directions. Dante’s group easily chased them down and retook the fragnts.

Twenty minutes later, the last symbiote was absorbed. The parking lot was silent except for the crackle of dying flas and the groans of unconscious bikers.

Dante felt like his power had been increased by ten to fifteen percent just by absorbing the fragnts. Of course that power belonged to Venom entirely. But as long as he wore the suit, it was his to use.

Progress was progress.

Natasha cut off the bike’s Hellfire and got off the bike. “Thanks for the help.”

“Just helping out my bride—”

Natasha threw a supersonic punch at his face. He deflected it with the back of his hand and laughed.

“You’ll never escape this.”

The scene of a burning skeleton in clothes laughing sinisterly and the other furiously trying to kill him with superhuman punches—it was crazy enough to keep Yuri Watanabe thirty feet away from them.

She had wanted to approach to say thanks on behalf of everyone. However, she stayed right where she was. So did everyone else.

Nobody wanted to ss with Dante and Natasha right now.

“Dante.” Laura’s voice cut through his happy mont. “Over there.”

He followed her line of sight and froze. The East River—it was black. Boats. A horde of them—from dinghies to speedboats and yachts—packed so tightly together they ford a black floating carpet that stretched across the waterway. On every boat, one or two symbiotes sat waiting.

From the opposite direction, a cruise ship approached. A massive cruise with multi-deck layout. It was also crawling with symbiote hosts.

Dante had to suck in a deep breath. Over a thousand symbiote, or maybe more, had co for revenge. Norman was pissed they had ruined his plans to take over this island. So pissed that he sent a whole army of symbiotes to take them down. Or he wanted to curbstomp Dante’s group and show off his power at the sa ti.

“Well, shit.”